


Yusuke and the Jolly Roger

by Coffiend



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, bros with swords, sword and sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffiend/pseuds/Coffiend
Summary: Alternative title; "The Savage Sword of Sakamoto!"





	1. Chapter 1

 

Far from the torches of civilization and beneath the light of a near-full moon, Yusuke sat on the roof of a tomb, attempting to chew smoke.

The tomb was a hill with a stone portal on its side. Yusuke wore a blue cloak, a longsword by his pants, a pack at his feet, a pair of boots and a blanket. He smoked from a tomahawk he held to his mouth like a pipe. He had come to the tomb to beg food from the dead. In the country through which he travelled, meeting a friendly ghost was not unheard of, though only the desperate sought such favors. The countryside was also ancient and cruel. There were other things than the benevolent dead in its tombs. 

 _It is fortunate the dead love artists,_ thought Yusuke, turning the smoke over his tongue. The spirit had not provided food but it had been of some help; in return for a spot to sleep it had asked for a portrait. Yusuke had agreed, and the spirit had described how it had looked in life. Working from the instruction, Yusuke had produced a portrait and left it in the tomb interior.

The tombs filled highwaymen and animals alike with fear, so the spot should’ve been safe to sleep at. However, the young man had not eaten for days. While attempting to sleep, Yusuke had writhed and moaned on his back for hours. He had already attempted to eat grass, but it hadn’t purged the hunger. Eventually, he had sat up and snatched at his tomahawk.

It was a memento he carried from his father, and it was crafted magnificently; it held a bowl for tobacco on the side opposite from the axe-blade and the shaft was hollow, making it a serviceable pipe. Yusuke had then snatched a fistful of grass, stuffed it in the tobacco bowl, lit the wad with a spark from his flint-rocks and attempted to eat the smoke. He separated his lips from the shaft and dry heaved.

From out of the night came a voice; drums began to play, and smoke rose on the horizon. The smell of cooking meat met Yusuke’s nose; before he realized he had willed it, he was on his feet and moving. Boots on, pack strapped, and he was gone from the tomb’s roof and into the forest beyond.

Stumbling and cursing his way through pitch-dark brush, bleeding from a dozen cuts, Yusuke made straight for the smell. His mouth watering as he imagined what awaited him. The dreams were almost good enough to eat; venison, rabbit, steaks, pork, cheese, bread, grapes, apples, stew…

Bursting through the foliage, he came to a clearing filled with a gathering of robed shapes and food-laden tables. At its center towered a golden idol in the shape of a lion, behind which roared a bonfire. Upon closer examination, the idol revealed itself to be made of hundreds of golden human statues, each locked together to form a leonine hulk. The drumbeat strengthened, and voices howled in the night.

Yusuke didn’t consider himself a coward, but he had heard tales of the Beast of Human Sacrifice before; stories that filled their teller’s eyes with distance, as if the consciousness behind their pupils was being forcibly dragged elsewhere. As they went on, the stories would wrack their teller’s faces like there was something thrashing under their skin; lips would wobble, teeth would grind, nostrils would flare. Each expression was unique. Sometimes, storytellers would begin to cry halfway through. Some would stop mid-sentence; as if there was a block preventing their words from leaving their lips.

Yusuke turned to leave, but his legs were weak. He felt arms take him by the shoulders, dragging him back, choking him into unconsciousness…

He dreamed of his mother.   

***

Waking to the smell of ash, Yusuke realized he was upside-down. He had been cocooned in rope bindings and hung from the lion. A tight gag bit into his lips. Before him stood a host of shadowy figures, perhaps human once. Their faces were all teeth and tongues. The closest spat something in an incomprehensible language and drenched the young man in clear liquid from a bucket.

A chant began. Yusuke looked around, his gag holding back an army of screams, and saw that beneath him lay dozens of burnt corpses. A torch was lit, and it began to make its way from cultist to cultist, closer to the young man. It was then Yusuke realized that the cultists had drenched him in flammable liquid and were about to immolate him.

Yusuke considered himself human. He was more than an automaton and less than a god, and as such, he knew how it felt to be hurt. Throughout his life, he had born the weight of sorrow and like most people had sustained himself through his ordeals by maintaining hope for the future. One day, his life would change; he just needed to keep fighting _._ Looking upon the torch, hope faded away, and he realized all the promises he had fueled himself with had been lies. He had been doomed, not only to a death from burning but also to a life of powerlessness; powerlessness to change anything meaningfully along with powerlessness to accept anything meaningful for what it was. An existence of deluded, voiceless screaming. Was that it?

The chant strengthened, then stopped. It was replaced by conversation among the cultists. The torch halted its progress. From somewhere out of his vision, a yelp sounded. A cultist fell, and the clearing exploded into violence. Yusuke imagined that a grizzly bear had emerged from the woods behind him, and the cultists had somehow enraged it. From the noise, it seemed more reasonable to assume that a deity had descended from the heavens and begun slaying giants than a few cultists were attempting to drive off a bear. The battle raged, and it seemed the bear had triumphed; the cultists that remained fled into the woods. The bear let out a surprisingly human victory shout, and then… swore?

“Only four of ‘em,” came a voice. Before Yusuke strode a slightly-limping blond young man dressed in leather, a sledge by his side and a blunderbuss slung over his shoulder. He wore a mask crafted in the likeness of a human skull and two naked cutlasses strapped to his chest in a crossed position, making him look like a living Jolly Roger. He was noticeably shorter than Yusuke, though built far less willowy. “Someone should’ve seen that,” grunted the blond.

After Yusuke came to his senses, he screamed, the noise muffled through his gag. The blond swung on his heels and raised his sledge, before slowly lowering it. “Effin’ ‘ell,” swore the Jolly Roger. “You’re still alive!”

Yusuke screamed into his gag again.

“Oh, right,” the Jolly Roger sprang into action, carefully cutting the other boy and lowering him to the earth, before cutting the bindings loose and tearing off the gag. “Damn, they were gonna roast you, huh?”

Yusuke coughed, wiping tears from his face, “Yes. They were. I owe you my life.”

The Jolly Roger stood, offering a gloved hand, “My name’s Ryuji.”

The young man took Ryuji’s hand and hauled himself to his feet, eyes immediately wandering to the tables of food the cultists had left, “And mine’s Yusuke.”

“Alright, good to meet you,” said Ryuji. “Now that’s out of the way let’s get the hell out of here. Can you walk?” Yusuke nodded, moving forwards a few steps before falling to his knees.

“Hammer of Hlorithi," Ryuji exclaimed, “No you can’t! Here, hold this.” Ryuji sprinted around the idol and returned with a bundle of packs, Yusuke’s belongings included. After Yusuke slung it over his shoulders, Ryuji slung his blunderbuss over his back, held his sledge by its strap with his teeth, turned around and hauled Yusuke onto his back. Yusuke was barely able to understand what was happening as Ryuji began to carry him piggyback out of the forest.

***

“Damn, when’s the last time you ate?” asked Ryuji.

“Approximately four days ago.”

“Ouch.”

Yusuke was too busy eating as quickly as he could without choking to respond. The two sat in Ryuji’s camp, roasting food stolen from the cultists over an open fire of their own. Silence stretched.

Finally, Ryuji broke it, motioning towards Yusuke’s dishevelled pack, “Those art supplies, those yours?”

“Yes,” responded Yusuke, after swallowing a mouthful of food. After his one-syllable reply, Yusuke reached for more food, before his stretching arm faltered. Instead, Yusuke sat on his log and began to quietly sob. Ryuji looked on from behind him.

“Damn, uhh...” Ryuji spoke softly, before sitting beside Yusuke and putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Yusuke continued to sob.

The two sat there in silence once more. Ryuji quietly cared for his armament. Yusuke simply stared off into the night. Eventually, Ryuji glanced in Yusuke’s pack again, still slung half-open over Yusuke’s back. His eyes caught glimpses of sketches and small playing card-sized paintings in the process. Ryuji mumbled. “Huh. That’s pretty good.”

Yusuke’s sobbing weakened, “You… think so?”

“Yeah man,” replied Ryuji. Ryuji’s face brightened with realization for a moment, before finally falling back into silence.

“What is it?” asked Yusuke, his sobs fading.

“I was just thinking. You said you… owe me, yeah?” replied Ryuji.

“Yes. You saved my life.”

“Well…” Ryuji wore a pained face, “I’ve been wandering around for a while, trying to build a reputation for a group I’m in. The ‘Phantom Thieves’. That’s why I’m here to begin with, I heard there were kidnappings happening in the woods. I’m trying for stories like… ones about Hlorithi and Artaurus and shit, you know, heroes. I want to give people hope like they do.”

“King Artaurus, of the round table?” Yusuke perked up, “I loved his legends, back when I was an apprentice. My master had old tapestries of the tales for artistic study.”

“Yeah!” Ryuji exclaimed, “You doowe me, right? You could travel with me for a while. Paint my adventures and shit, sell them at cities, try and spread the tales you know? Get the Phantom Thieves out there. I need a herald or something. You could make my banner!”

Yusuke fell silent. His face was still wearied by sadness. Contemplation danced in his eyes. Yusuke did not know how much he could or should trust his rescuer but also had no idea how to proceed with his life. The thoughts he had held when he was about to burn to death still rung in his mind, though he did no longer know what to make of them. He didowe the stranger his life… is it worth an attempt? 

“I’ll feed you,” said Ryuji.

“Done,” spoke Yusuke. Ryuji laughed at the abruptness of the reply. That night, Yusuke slept with a full stomach. In the morning the duo left the forest and its golden statue far, far behind.


	2. Myrmidon Days

“Shh.” Said Ryuji. “Don’t move.”

Yusuke froze, responding more out of subservience than understanding. The two had been walking on a dusty road that parted an ocean of wheat that allegedly lead to civilization. Slowly, as if trying to appear unthreatening, Ryuji sat upon his heels and reached into the field next to him, gently making clicking noises. “ _Hey there…”_ he cooed into the wheat.

“Ryuji, what are you doing?” Whispered Yusuke, instinctively lowering his voice.

Ryuji withdrew his arm. In his palm lay a minuscule black dot. As Yusuke looked closer at it, he spied seven tiny legs sticking from its sides. “Hey little guy.” Said Ryuji to the dot. “How’ve you been?”

“Ryuji, are you talking to a spider?” Asked Yusuke, his face twisted with confusion.

“Yeah.” Answered Ryuji, a wide grin on his face. “That’s how the Phantom Thieves get their info; from the web. This little dude’s actually the one who told me about those cultists.” The spider quivered slightly.

“What’s that?” Asked Ryuji of the spider. “Akira said what? Alright. Send it along the threads that I’ll be in Tokyolhm soon.”

The spider quivered again.

“Alright, alright.” Ryuji drew an empty flask from his side. A bold label read _Apothecary Salt’s Concoction._ Ryuji then shook a tiny drop of brown liquid onto his palm, which the spider drank greedily. “You doing okay?” Ryuji asked, his eyebrows raising. “You’re missing a leg.”

The spider quivered slightly. Ryuji’s face hardened, like how the sagas state that the flesh of trolls petrifies in the light of the sun. “What is it?” Asked Yusuke.

“Send it along the threads that I’ll be late coming home.” Whispered Ryuji to the spider, before reaching his hand back into the wheat. When he retrieved his arm, the black dot was gone. Ryuji stood.

“How good are you with that thing at your side?” Ryuji asked, casually gesturing towards Yusuke’s longsword.

“Modestly skilled, I would say.”

“Good. I wanna go smash a needlerat.” Ryuji said, wading into the field.

“A needlerat?”

“Big ‘ole metal things, usually size of a horse. Look like eyeless rats, and they’ve got needles for fingers. They’ll go for the head, try and stick you through the eyes or the ears; pump something into you, make you sleep for a while. Weirdly enough, you won’t go blind or deaf or anything. If they can, they’ll carry you off down one of their holes somewhere. Don’t know who makes ‘em. Probably some kind of crazy magic asshole.”

Yusuke drew his sword.

“Yup. They’re not too dangerous; most of the people they get just… wander towards them one day. They’re still real bastards though.” Said Ryuji.

“Fascinating.” Yusuke said, voice completely empty of sarcasm. “And you live like this… for the sake of heroism? That is quite incredible, if I might say so.”

Something fast and shiny leapt at Ryuji. Ryuji responded instantly, separating the thing's head from its nightmarish mechanical body and launching it into the wheat with one fell swipe from his sledge.

Ryuji began to breathe heavily. “Yeah.”

 

 

 

The remainder of the duo’s journey passed quickly. Following Ryuji’s lead, Yusuke wove through the back alleys of Tokyholm. Eventually, the two came to an oddly bitter-smelling establishment marked by a wordless, white panel over its entrance. Ryuji beckoned his companion to follow, and the two stepped in.

Immediately Yusuke wrinkled his nose as the smell strengthened. It was bitter and dark, mixed with the faint smell of burning from the hearth. The establishment was well furnished with dark tables and chairs, along with a long bar. Behind the bar an aproned figure with black hair, a receding hairline, spectacles and a magnificently groomed handlebar mustache was polishing a mug. Above the bar hung an enormous two-handed sword that Yusuke recognized as a _Zweihander._

The figure looked upwards and raised an eyebrow, before beginning to fill two small glasses with the bitter-smelling liquid. “Ahh. You’re back.”

“You know it.” Responded Ryuji. The figure set the two cups upon the bar; stepping forward, Ryuji grasped one, and the figure took the other. Twinning their arms so the crook of their elbows rested together, the two raised their respective glasses to their lips and drank; a ritual for which Ryuji had to stand on the tips of his toes for, as his counterpart was significantly taller than him. As they finished, the figure took the cups behind the bar.

“Akira said he has something for you upstairs.” The figure said. Before the duo left, the figure shot a furtive glance at Yusuke and looked back to Ryuji, the tips of his mouth bending into a smirk. “Finally starting to rescue ‘princesses’ on your adventures then? I thought you were the type.”

“Shut _up,_ man. He’s my flagbearer.”

“Whatever keeps you warm at night, kid. I saw more than my fair share of flagpole-bearing in my sell-sword days.”

Ryuji started. “Hey now, listen…”

“Sojiro.” Came a bemused voice from the stairs.

“Fine.” Sojiro smirked, and fell silent. Ryuji climbed the stairs and Yusuke followed. In the attic was a young man, a young woman and a cat, all of whom were eating from a large earthenware vessel. The young woman held a black-and-yellow banner in her hands, adorned with a skull over two crossed bones, one off which was broken. “Is this yours?” The woman asked. “The spiders left it here.”

“Yeah. I got this guy to draw it first, then had it delivered here.” Ryuji responded, taking the cloth as he did so. “This is Yusuke. Yusuke, this is Akira, Ann and Morgana.”

“It’s quite the pleasure.” Said Yusuke. “My blade is yours. Please, take care of me.”

“A flagbearer?” Said Akira. “Could be useful. Anyways. Eat. We’ve got things to talk about.”

Yusuke and Ryuji sat and began to eat. Akira began to speak. As he did so, he fished a fistful of golden rings from his bag and slid them over to Ryuji, which the blond pocketed gratefully. 

“Now. He’s not a member _yet,_ but you have earned yourself a follower.” Akira said, opening a book at his side. “Alright. Ryuji, Ann, Morgana. Here’s what I think we should do next.”

The thieves strategized deep into the night hours. Before Yusuke even realized he was tired, he had already fallen asleep.


	3. Ryuji Nearly Gets Married

“They’d say our queen’s insane!” growled the knight, his medals jingling with the force of his words. “She can’t marry that thieving ogre of a man. I’d sooner hold him to sword-point and force him to copulate with a boar!”

“Captain. Without the axe’s return, our kingdom _will_ burn. You of all people should know that. With the death of Lord Okumura, our allies have cut ties with us and our wealth flounders. Without that axe, without _something,_ we’re a corpse waiting to be cannibalized. Is that what you _want,_ captain? Do you wish upon your sons a death in hopeless battle and your daughters a life of slavery? We’ve a quarter of the army we’d need to make war with him, and our thieves and assassins have without fail been mailed to us in boxes! What else do you propose?” snarled the court wizard.

“Gentlemen.” Spoke Haru.

The bickering paused. Haru looked around; she sat at a long table, in the seat that had once been her father’s. Along the walls hung proud banners and at the table sat a dozen men, both adorned with the gold and symbols of the kingdom. Her kingdom.

“My lady.” Spoke the knight, respectfully bowing his head. One by one, the rest followed, murmuring their own hails as they did so.

“I will pray. If the gods do not provide, I will marry Sugimura.”

“Haru…” Spoke the knight. Haru shot him a look.

“Forgive me, my lady. Are you… sure?”

“Yes, captain, I am. Meeting adjourned.”

All attendants save Haru stood and left. Haru sat and waited. When she was sure they had left, she stood, and began to make her way down her father’s… _her_ castle. Down through the wine cellar, down through the hidden door. Lighting a torch on her way, a dark tunnel led to a cave dripping with blue light from nowhere. At its center was a still pool of glowing white liquid, like the moon on glassy water.

Kneeling before the pool, Haru began to murmur. “ _Oh lords beyond sky, hear me. I come to you in my hour of need. A terrible foe has stolen the axe of my family, the enchanted weapon Starcaller, and demands my hand in marriage for its return. Without its power, my people will die. Show me the way. I don’t…_ I don’t want… _him._ ”

The pool opened like an eye. Something from deep beneath it fixed its gaze on the praying girl. Words emerged, like bubbles crawling through swamp, in the depths of Haru’s mind.

_Leave the castle, and look to the first two you find. They shall help you._

Haru shook her head free of the alien counsel. Leading to her feet, she sped up the tunnel, back to her castle and then to its mighty gates. For the first time that day, Haru realized it was raining.

“Open the gates!” She shouted to the walls. A creaking began as wheels swept the wooden portal open. Beyond it stood two young men; one blond, the other blue-haired. Both looked intensely surprised at the gates opening; the blond lowered his fist, as if he had been just about to knock.

“You two! W-Will you help me?” Haru yelled at the duo.

Before the blue-haired one could speak, the blond one had affirmed that yes, they would. “See, what’d I tell you? Shelter.” Said the blond one to his companion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I am Yusuke.” Said the blue-haired one. “And this is my liege, Ryuji Tyrantender of the Phantom Thieves.” The hall murmured at the mention of the Phantom Thieves.

“I’m ‘Tyrantender’? Sick.” Said Ryuji.

“Please, sit. We do have much to discuss.” Said Haru, gesturing towards the council she had just recently hosted, and was now hosting again. Hard-eyed men glared at the newcomers. Ryuji and Yusuke sat.

“Gentlemen. I went to the shrine, and I received a message. These two will help us.” Haru said to the table as she sat at its head. An unidentifiable snort flew.

“I am Queen here, after my father… passed. I have a problem. A problem I looked to the gods to help me with. They told me the first two I would see outside of my castle would help me. Can you?” Said Haru, turning to the newcomers.

“Hell yeah.” Said Ryuji.

“Great!” Haru paused, and coughed softly. “An enemy of mine, my former fiancé Sugimura, has stolen a great treasure. A magic axe, given to my family long ago. Without it, my city cannot be defended. For its safe return, he demands my hand in marriage. But he’s… an awful man…” Haru trailed off.

“In return for the spread of my lord’s name, we would be happy to help. I suppose we’ve already given our word.” Said Yusuke, flashing a look at his companion. “Do you have an army?”

“Nothing substantial. After my father went, many of the mercenary companies under our command abandoned us.”

Yusuke rubbed his temples. “Have you already attempted subterfuge?”

“Many times. All agents have failed.”

“So you seek providence from the divine?”

“Yes. We were informed once that Sugimura keeps the axe with him at all times, before our informant was delivered to us on the end of a spear.” Spoke the court wizard.

“By all gods, do you swear this is true?” Asked Yusuke.

“I swear.” Said Haru.

“Ryuji, what do you think?” Yusuke asked his companion.

“I have an idea. Straight from the sagas of Hlor. We’re talking divine providence here, right? And a magic weapon stolen?” Ryuji stood. “One condition though. Yusuke, you’re going to have to wear a dress.”

 

 

 

 

 

“This is bullshit.” Said Ryuji, words muffled from beneath his opaque bridal veil. “Why do I have to be the bride? The thieves would laugh their asses off if they saw me like this.”

“Because, Ryuji, I’m too tall to effectively impersonate Queen Haru. Also, you should attempt to remember your falsetto.” Said Yusuke, similarly shrouded in the attire of a bridesmaid. The two sat in an ornate carriage, slowly rolling along towards Sugimura’s lands.

“ _Hammer of Hlor._ Are we really doing this?”

“It was your idea, Ryuji.”

“Yeah, but, YOU were supposed to be…”

A creaking sound filled the air as shadow descended over the carriage. Slowly, a stone passageway passed over the carriage, before the vehicle was through the gates of castle Sugimura. Before the two had really realized what what happening, they were out and greeted by a wolf-eyed prince with an axe at his hip. Yusuke was suddenly very glad that their faces were covered, and their outlines obscured by linen. “My _bride._ ” Said Sugimura in a tone that made very clear he meant “toy”.

Yusuke wanted to slug him. Quickly, the feast had begun; barrels of mead, dozens of fish and what appeared to be an entire ox fed the feast. Yusuke ate daintily and kept an alarmed eye on Ryuji, who had already drunk three mugs of the honeywine. Sugimura learned over, feeling his “bride” around the chest; thankfully, Ryuji’s dress was stuffed with cloth-scraps, giving him the appearance of breasts, and Sugimura was already quite drunk. The prince opened his toothy mouth and spoke. “Haru, I’ve never met a girl who ate so much.”

“My queen!” squeaked Yusuke in the highest voice he could manage. “She didn’t eat for three days. She was quite excited on the way here.”

Sugimura smiled, his hands going for Ryuji’s head. Before Yusuke could say anything, Sugimura lifted Ryuji’s veil and went in for a kiss, before lurching back as if he had found a snake there. “The hell?” He said. “I knew Haru was scared of doing this, but I didn’t know _that_ much. Jeez, those eyes... like, fire.”

Yusuke found his tongue. “She didn’t sleep either.”

Sugimura’s eyes sparkled. “Really? Well then, let’s get this going, so we can get some _rest._ ”

Sugimura stood. His kin had already begun to perk up; it was customary in these lands, Yusuke had been informed, for rulers to gift their followers and family with golden jewelry in times of mirth, and as reward for heroic deeds. Sugimura did so, and then begun to raise the axe at his side. “By this weapon, I declare us…”

Ryuji shot up like a weasel and snatched the axe from Sugimura’s hands. The weapon began to warp, as if the metal was possessed by a terrible fury. First Ryuji killed Sugimura, then, his arm moving up and down like that of a drummer, he killed those sitting around Sugimura. Leaping to his feet, Ryuji ripped off his veil, revealing a contented face.

“Open the gates or more of ‘em die!” He said, making lurching motions at Sugimura’s family and smiling wider as they flinched, “Come on man, let’s get out of here!” He said to Yusuke.

The gates cracked open. Quickly, he and Yusuke were aboard the carriage, urging the driver pick up speed. The vehicle shot out of the gates like a rocket. Quickly, the duo had disappeared into the horizon.

“Oldest one in the book!” Laughed Ryuji as he wiped a chunk of someone’s skull off the axe. “Ride then, to castle Okumura!”


	4. Echoes

Removing his bridal veil was the first thing Ryuji did after the carriage got a safe distance from castle Sugimoto. Yusuke followed suit. The two took turns leaning from the windows, keeping an eye on the road behind them. Eventually, Yusuke caught sight of ravens, chasing each other’s tail feathers in a halo over the fading castle.

“The lancers are saddled.” Yusuke said to the carriage. “The ravens think they’re about to be fed.”

The driver accelerated. Ryuji chuckled. “Horses won’t follow where we’re going.”

“It’s some time before we hit the mountains.” Whispered Yusuke.

“Yeah, alright. Hand me my gun.” Ryuji said. Yusuke passed Ryuji his blunderbuss. Ryuji began to polish it. Yusuke continued to stare at the road behind them. The next few days passed in a similar manner, until the two reached the mountains.

The driver unhitched the carriage and rode off on one of his two horses, his part of the plan fulfilled. He would take the low road, unhindered by cargo and hopefully no longer pursued.

The mountains expanded before Ryuji and Yusuke. Yusuke sighed, not taking his eyes over their area. Like snow-capped fingers, their enormity seemed to exude a gravity of its own. They were big, and _dense,_ like a titanic bowl overturned on a rat’s nest of life. For a moment Yusuke thought he could hear tunnels, and water rushing; a thousand gateways to the deep places of the earth yawned before him. No, it was not a gateway. The mountains were a throne for the sky, to stretch its circling cradle over the planet.

Eventually, he snapped from his reverie. “And the lancers won’t follow us through this way?”

“Nope. Or at least their horses won’t. If they’ve got any dogs with ‘em, they won’t go either.” Said Ryuji.

“So, no animal will scale these mountains?”

“Nope.” Responded Ryuji.

“Why is that?”

“No clue.”

The two stood, staring at the mountains in silence.

“Well, I suppose it is a quick way back to Queen Haru, if it inconveniences our pursuers and spares us the open road of Sugimoto’s territory.” Said Yusuke.

“Yeah.” Said Ryuji.

With that, the two began their hike. The mountain range was named “Snakerest,” which was odd, as it had no snakes. Only modest birds and insects beneath the leaves. The path was old and ill-kept; at most places damp with condensation and studded with rocks. Yusuke quickly found it was best to lean forwards, and let the weight of his pack push him on. Ryuji grunted and limped as he went, his face the color of a radish yet offering no words. The hike would only take four days to be down the other side, where Haru had arranged for fresh horses to meet them. From there, the path back to her castle would be clear, and the axe again in safe hands (presently, it was stabbing from Ryuji’s pack into his back).

When they rested, they ate oats, stale bread and cheese, washing the mouthfuls down with a swig of honeywine or cold water. Streams trickled past them lazily. The logs they sat on were ubiquitously dead and damp, covered with moss and leaves. The duo quickly learned not to care; coats made comfortable enough separation for their asses from the dead trees. Food and rest, Yusuke thought, were not luxuries; but resources that efficient hikers managed carefully. Tiredness and ache would surely cast the duo onto their pursuer’s spears if disrespected. Yet tiredness also crept in the mind; Yusuke drew when he wished to cast it out, and Ryuji stared into space. The two spent days without speaking a word to the other.

The hike quickly robbed them of words; the two travelers settled into a rhythm with their steps. On the way, Yususke often stopped to sketch things like a particularly gnarled tree or water running down rocks. When Yusuke did so, Ryuji leaned on his knees and rubbed his right thigh. Finally, as the moon began to rise, the two sat by the side of the trail and Ryuji broke the silence.

“So, why the hell were you in that forest?” He asked.

Yusuke thought. Finally, he answered. “My master had been imprisoned, and I no longer had a home. I don’t know where I was going.”

“Ahh. I know the feeling. _My_ old king broke my leg. Then he tried to destroy me.” Said Ryuji.

“Your old king?”

“Kamoshida. I was a Sunchaser; I signed on to help my mom out a little bit. Anyways, Kamoshida had us running around all over the place, taking messages here and there. We took lots of weird shit and ran for days at a time. When he started running us too hard, he baited me and I took it. Then he broke my leg and kicked me out.”

Words ceased as the two lapsed into their own minds. Suddenly, Yusuke felt like the silence was reaching into his brain and smothering it, and he spoke again. “We are young men of no home then.”

“There’s Sojiro’s place for me. Maybe I should show you around there sometime.” Ryuji responded.

“Sojiro?”

“You know, the old mercenary with the coffee shop and the big sword?”

Yusuke paused, thinking to himself. “Yes, I remember him now.”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a jackass, but he’s also a great guy. He’s got wads of cash from back when he was a soldier, and tons of room. It’s alright.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“If you want it. I need someone to fly my banner, after all.”

“I fear I don’t quite fit with the phantom thieves.”

“You don’t? You just need to get to know ‘em a little better.”

Yusuke fell silent.

“Holding onto your brooding so you can paint about it?” Asked Ryuji.

“No, I…”

“Ahh whatever, I won’t push you though. You’re still my herald, so you’ll know them better eventually anyways.” Ryuji took another swig of honeywine.

 

 

 

That night Yusuke dreamed he was a shadow, marching besides a corsair, a priestess and a gentleman thief. They strode to a field of meat, where flesh slid from bone like fruit from trees. Yusuke hurt; a deep, heavy hurt that seeped to his bones. An ocean of hurt was that field, and in the dreaming Yusuke could no longer distinguish feeling and inflicting. For he was not Yusuke in that dream; he was shadow, ice and metal just as a person is flesh, blood and bone. And he had not come so far to lose.

The next morning, the hike resumed. Yusuke shook his head often as if trying to rattle water from his ears. Swiftly, forest began to sweep out beneath them; an ocean of green, each drop of water a tree. Mist crawled in their nostrils. Not noticing it himself, Yusuke began to sketch, and Ryuji took the opportunity to rest. “I don’t think we’re being followed anymore,” Ryuji said, looking on the horizon. “The ravens ditched. They’re over the main roads now.” Yusuke smiled at that.

That night, Ryuji and Yusuke feasted on bread, cheese, oats and wine. Yusuke dreamed of chains.

On the third day of their mountain journey, Ryuji often stopped in the middle of the trail and stared into the distance. “You hear that?” He finally asked.

“Hear what?” Asked Yusuke.

“Chains. Or something.”

Yusuke said he didn’t hear any, and Ryuji shrugged. The two continued to walk.

Up through the mists, the top of the mountain tossed with cold wind. Yusuke breathed deep and Ryuji massaged his bad leg more. Suddenly, the sound of chains sounded, up somewhere above them. There was still a mile or so before the mountain’s zenith, and neither could see what lay at the true zenith.

Yusuke’s eyes glazed over at the sound. He began walking forwards. Ryuji called out, but ice, shadow and steel had no ears. Pace picking up, Yusuke began to run towards the top. Ryuji followed as best his leg would allow. Upwards, Yusuke navigated a pool of gargantuan oily chain that wrapped the mountain like a serpent, each link the size of a grown man’s arm. The chain pooled everywhere, layered on itself five times over, choking the mountaintop. Further, Yusuke climbed.

At the top lay a black figure, crusted in rusty, stained metal. She was female, doubtlessly; though no woman Yusuke knew had armored spikes for tits. She was tall as a grizzly bear. By her side lay a blade long and wide as a man grown. Her left arm, is seemed, gnashed with gray; like boiling metal, cruel shards running through the molten limb. A grey mane flew from her armored face. Out of the back of the woman’s head the chain started, and at her feet it was anchored into the earth. “Leviathan.” Yusuke whispered.

The metal woman stirred. “ _Goemon. You’ve come back to me.”_ She rumbled.

Yusuke flinched, and suddenly he was Yusuke again. He heard again Ryuji’s calls, urging him to stop. The woman began to stand. Suddenly, Ryuji had barreled to the top and grabbed him by the arm. Continuing his momentum, Ryuji forcibly dragged Yusuke over the top and down into the path again, running awkwardly. No words; the two ran as long as they could.

Ryuji’s eyes unglazed. “What… the fuck?” He said, panting hard.

In the distance, metal jingled. Out of the mist, a hand came. Ryuji flinched, and suddenly there was blood on his face. The hand withdrew, holding its prize to light; a single brown eye. “Oh you _motherfucker…”_ Ryuji growled at the armored woman, poking around the socket where one of his eyes used to be. The woman crushed it in her molten hand, jelly dripping through her fingers.

Ryuji’s sledge met her blade with a clang; the blond had begun to roar like a wounded animal. His voice turned deep and throaty, flying from his lungs with a herculean effort. First, it started low, dipping into glottal fry; then, his voice flew like an arrow. The woman screeched back, and the two locked themselves deeper into mortal combat.

 _“I’ll spear you on my lightning once more then, you troll-mothered, maggot-minded whore! I’ll feed you to the sea this time! I’ll tie yeh to a thousand anchors and leave you to rot there in the lightless depths, paralyzed ‘till the world’s end!”_ Ryuji sounded, his voice taking on a deeper timber than usual. Weapons flew, and Ryuji caught a sword to the side of his gut. The woman’s left leg buckled, having felt a furious hammer-blow. Ryuji fell backwards; back, into Yusuke’s arms.

Yusuke began to run, practically hoisting Ryuji on his shoulders. They had a few moments before the woman got up again. Ryuji continued to roar curses. Down the road, until the woman and the sound of her chains were gone.

Ryuji blinked fog out of his one good eye. “Ryuji, are you alright?” Yusuke said, shaking the other boy by the shoulders.

“Who’s Ryuji?” Ryuji said. Yusuke slapped him across the face.

“Ow! The hell was that for, man?” Ryuji said. “Wait, how come I can’t see anything on the right side of my face?”

“Ryuji! _”_ Yusuke said.

“What?”

“Good, you know your name again. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, think so. What’s going on?”

“We have to run. There’s something here that will slay both of us should we stay. Take the axe. Drop everything you can.” Yusuke panted, shedding most of his pack. “We have to move.”

The two began to run. The rattling had started again, getting closer. Ryuji could barely run with his bad leg. All sense of time faded; it could’ve been hours, or minutes. But Ryuji tripped, and the woman found them.

They were at a cliff. The path down the mountain snaked with water and ice, slithering through the rocks. The woman stepped forward, towering over Ryuji.

“Just go,” Ryuji gasped, grasping for his hammer.

Yusuke looked back.

The woman raised her sword.

Quick as a fox, Yusuke had grabbed Ryuji by the lapel. With a strength born from somewhere primordial and desperate, Yusuke hauled the other boy onto his shoulders. Then, he jumped off the cliff.

As he fell, Yusuke got a feeling akin to one of his dream. He _was_ ice. With a thought, the element obeyed his command, creating a narrow strip of frost, easing their fall into a hurtling slide. The woman jumped after, running down the cliff and snatching at the duo’s backs, closer, closer… then the chain caught on something, perhaps a tangle miles back, and her pursuit ended.

Ryuji and Yusuke landed hard, breaking branches as they fell. Yusuke felt his knee connect with his lips, and tasted blood. Ryuji coughed.

Then, the two began to laugh uproariously, falling onto the ground and convulsing with mirth.

“By the god’s dude. _Fuck._ I landed on my _fucking hammer.”_ Ryuji laughed, grasping at his side. “ _Oh_ damn. This really fucking hurts.”

“I’ve broken my arm.” Yusuke laughed deeply, like he had just made a hilarious joke.

“Shit, dude.” Ryuji continued to laugh, poking at his empty right eye socket. “I lost an eye. She just like… scooped it out. I thought I was named Kidd for a moment.”

The two continued to laugh and convulse with pain. Only a day away, their transport waited. Limping down the mountain, the duo were then taken by chariot back to castle Okumura.


	5. Interlude

“According to this, Leviathan is an evil goddess, allegedly trapped by a group of four long ago on the top of a mountain. She was known as an avatar of slaughter and victory, thought to be as invincible as death. She dwelled in a great, gaudy palace, filled with games of all kinds where her victims played for their lives.”

“You would not believe this mead, man.”

“Those that opposed her were supernatural heroes. Each possessed odd powers. For instance, one allegedly knew the language of storms and could hold conversations with rain. The pattering of drops were words to him, and his yells would be heard by the clouds. Though their stories have faded somewhat, much still survives. For instance, Arsene spawned a series of children’s rhymes and legends, titled “The Prince of Fools”. One of them was adopted by the Hlor legends as a faithful to the thunder god, and another became an obscure mythological character called ‘the Winter Knight.’”

“Haru said it was brewed by monks, up in a northern mountain range. You can’t even join their order unless you take a vow of silence for a year.”

“Their names were Arsene, Johanna, Kidd and Goemon.”

“You should really try it. There’s a barrel down in the feasting hall. Haru cracked it open with the magic axe to celebrate. It was great.”

“Hmm,” Yusuke hmm'd.

Ryuji took a swig from his mead-horn. He was standing above Yusuke, who was cross-legged before a bookshelf. The two were in the castle library, Yusuke pouring over moldering scrolls. From somewhere behind them, the sounds of revelry rung.

“You know they can’t un-cripple me, right? It’s only a matter of time before everything’s broken, living like this,” Ryuji scratched his new eyepatch. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that. If you don’t want to come party, that’s fine. I’ll see you later.”

Ryuji left. Yusuke continued to read. Minutes after Ryuji’s departure, Yusuke lifted his head and spoke, “I’m sorry, did you say something?"

No response came. Slowly, Yusuke realized the other boy was gone.


End file.
